Only Brothers understand reversed
by Emerald-Water
Summary: This is the reversal of deanandhisimpala's "Only Brothers understand". Starting with sick!Sam and going from there... and if Dean's adorable when sick, what's Sam gonna be? - Enjoy
1. sick

Hey folks!

So, this is it... I'm about to start the reversal of "Only brothers understand" written by the **bestest** deanandhisimpala. So, all that's gonna happen here is kinda her fault as she gave me the idea and her "okis" to do this.

To all of you who read "Only brothers understand"... you'll find similarities to deanandhisimpala's work. But every story I gonna put online here will be unique (at least that's what I hope), there are just a few words, emotions, random things that will maybe - maybe not - catch your eyes.

And... you'll know what I'll post next, because I'm going to do the same sequence.

Well, just leaves to tell you that I'm going to start with **sick!Sam**... and boy, what's Sam when he's sick when Dean already is adorable? ;)

Enjoy, and let me know if you like this... more Sam is going to be up soon! (and you all know I don't own them... and don't send money, give me cookies *LOL*)

* * *

**Only Brothers understand - reversed**

„C'mon Sammy..." warm breath caressed his skin as a voice whispered into his ear.

But he just didn't have the energy to answer. A cool hand went through his sweaty bangs, massaging his scalp to come to a rest in the nape of his neck.

„Sam, you need to get up. C'mon! I can't drag your heavy ass..."

The hand in his neck pushed him forward and he just went with the movement, his face coming to a rest on a shoulder and he took a deep, exhausted breath, taking in the scent of his brother; lending strength from him.

His muscles trembled as he tried to comply, moved his stiff and hurting joints. He was grateful for the cool hands that seemed to know he just didn't have it in him yet, as they helped his arms to wrap around a neck, after another short caress through his hair.

„That's it little brother. C'mon. Let's get you to the room."

With a swift movement he suddenly was standing, leaning heavily against the body whose arms were wrapped around his middle, keeping him upright.

And he felt tears escaping his closed lids as nausea and dizziness and pain all together crashed into him.

As if the other one knew, the arms around his middle tightened their hold, lending the much needed strength.

„You just try to get one feet in front of the other, okay? I'm doing......"

The rest of his brother's whispered words turned into a jumbled something, together with a shrill beeping in his ears, growing more and more intense with each passing moment. Dizziness let the darkness behind his closed lids start to dance a cruel reign, accompanied by nausea and pain and then.... darkness.

---

_He could hear a woman scream, saw fire erupt, encompassing the house. Windows exploded and acid smoke leaking from them, like blood running from a fatal wound. He was entranced by the sight, unable to move. Frozen. Petrified. The smoke reached his feet, slowly starting to move up his legs, wrap itself around him, to suffocate him._

_"No!" he spoke under his breath, trying to scream but failing miserably. _

_„Your fault! Your fault! It's all your fault! Failed!" voices started to taunt and the moment they talked to him the ban keeping him immobile was lifted. _

_"No!" he tried his voice again, shaking his head in vigor. _

_But it was too late. He couldn't be saved now. He'd die... He strained the muscles of his neck, trying to get his head out of the smoke, but it already was moving into his nostrils and mouth, running down his airways to replace the oxygen. _

_"No, no, no!"_

He couldn't breathe anymore. He tried to inhale but nothing came. And he was scared, felt himself regressing to an age where there was only one person that could help him out of his misery. He started to shake and something wet was running down his face.

„De...." where was his brother. He wanted his brother...

„De..." hands were there, cool and firm forcing him into a sitting position and then pulling him in. He gagged and then started to cough, feeling his chest burn in a fierce fire. The hands wandered up and down his back, tapping, thumping, soothing. And eventually he hitched in a breath, sucking air into his lungs while something wet ran down his chin.

The arms holding him never let go, but a soft, quiet voice started to whisper to him, as the tears slowly dried and his breath came more regular. And although the words didn't reach his jumbled brain. It didn't matter. What mattered was the voice.

Dean's voice.

And slowly he did drift off to sleep, with the arms still there, holding him. Keeping him safe.

---

His face was wet and with a disgusted scrunch of his nose he lifted his slightly numb arm and wiped away the drool.

Lifting his eyes only to half-mast, he blinked into the dim lit motel-room, taking in his surroundings.

God, he felt like road-kill. Slowly turning to his side something slipped from his forehead and landed on his pillow. Blinking, he got his shaky limbs working again, grabbing a hold of it and looked at it confused for a moment.

„Dean..." he whispered, his voice slightly hoarse.

He felt oddly wiped out, as if...

There was a noise as a key was placed in the door and it creaked open slowly. Dean was entering, carrying a paper-bag and bringing harsh sun-light with him.

Sam scrunched his eyes close, whimpering slightly as the light assaulted his retinas bringing back nausea and jumbled memories from the night before.

He could hear cussing and then the door was pushed close and something was hastily being dropped to the floor. Right before he could feel Dean's hands on his still fevered skin.

„Sammy..." one of the hands coming to rest on his forehead and Sam relished into the touch.

„'s okay... just the light..." his hoarse voice answered as he blinked his eyes slowly open waiting for the hand to be retrieved. But the hand stood there, cool and unwavering.

„I know. 'm sorry, I forgot. I thought it safe to get some provisions after your fever broke last night." he could hear his older sibling ramble.

„I mean, you gave me quite a heart-attack as you passed out in the parking-lot. Plus, it was super-gross when you _slimed_ all over me..." he could hear a nervous laugh and then his brother continued quietly: „You burned up that fast that I... I was ready to take you to the hospital, man... you were drifting'nd delirious'n stuff... the whole package. But as soon as I mentioned it you shook your head, telling me no." The hand eventually leaving Sam's forehead to wash through his own hair, making it stick up in every direction.

Dean looked tired, dark circle under his eyes and stubble peppered his cheeks.

„How long was I out?" Sam asked, yawning.

He watched Dean as his brother stood and lifted the dropped bag to the small table of their motel-room before eventually answering him.

„Almost two days. I told you. I was ready to take you to the hospital. If your fever wouldn't have broken last night..." he left the rest of the sentence unsaid.

Sam's eyes grew huge. „What? But I..." Sam stopped, again taking in Dean's appearance.

„'m sorry..." Sam mumbled sleepily.

„You better be!" Dean grinned at him frowning as he yawned again.

„Better go back to sleep for a while. I got some soup and... Popsicles..." he gave Sam a shit-eating grin as he could see the dull eyes light up.

„Yeah, yeah little brother. I just know what works for you, right?" winking he turned serious.

„Sleep. Now."

---

Sam woke later to the quiet sounds of a reality-show in TV. Outside darkness had already set. For a moment he wondered where his brother was, but then could feel the warm hand on his shoulder and the deep breathing in his back.

Slowly turning around to not disturb his slumbering sibling, Sam smiled at the sight he was greeted with.

Dean was sitting supported by the headboard, his head slightly hanging to one side, mouth open, deep asleep.

His left hand, the hand that had been on Sam's shoulder was lying now limply on the covers, while his right hand still held the remote-control.

Sam turned around fully, grabbing the controller and shut off the TV, then he moved Dean's left arm away and snuggled up to his brother's side, sighing contently.

„Big brother's always know what's best for ya..." he grinned at Dean's sleepy words right before he drifted off, feeling the hand moving to rest on his back.

**FIN**

* * *

**I hope you liked it... let me know! More soon...**


	2. cold

Hey all!

Sorry, this was supposed to go up earlier... but life's a b*** and... well, you all know it, right?

So, today is cold!Sam night... well, at least here... I just hope you like it. Thanks deanandhisimpala for your opinion and the betaing *hugs*.

Enjoy! And... let me know if it sucks... or... no, don't tell me... or... do tell me *LOL*

* * *

**_2_**

My stomach clenches as I see him smirk. The simmering anger I've felt the whole day - that drove my brother away - starts to bubble as I push him hard into the wall, intent to wipe the smirk off his face.

"Where is he?" I snarl, my knuckles digging into his chest as my vision turns red.

He just chuckles, not intimidated yet.

"Where. Is. He." I repeat, slamming him into the wall with each word.

For a moment his gaze wavers and fear seems to cross his features before the sneer is back.

"Little bitch had to cool down a bit…" he pants, then chuckles.

I stare at him, my eyes turning dark before they start darting around, searching.

"Where. Is. My. Brother." My forearm pushes into his throat, cutting off his air supply as I draw my knife. I smile grimly as I lift the knife to his face, feel the struggles subside. He stares petrified as the tip of the blade stops right under his right eye.

I slowly loosen my arm on his throat, feel him take a shallow breath and I repeat the question again, calm and without emotion, although inside of me a voice screams to hurry, that there's no time to be calm.

"Where is my brother?"

Ass-face's eyes start to well over as he hitches in breath after breath, fighting for air, wedged between the wall and me.

"Freezer…" his voice is barely a whisper, but the moment my brain registers the word, I know this time its bad.

The knife clatters from my grip as I push back, forcing myself to not waste him here and now.

He crumbles to the floor and starts to laugh maniacally as he tries to catch his breath.

"Was a little hot-headed… the punk… should be… be…"

"You sonuvabitch!"

I stop him before he finishes the sentence. His head whips to the left when my booted foot connects with his face, smashes him into the wall again. I see his eyes roll up in the back of his head but I don't care. I'm already turning and running.

"SAM!"

---

He had fought it. He had fought it so hard.

But now he is tired; so tired.

His head hurt and his left eye was swollen shut, but as much as he tried to remember what had happened, his mind couldn't seem able to find a coherent thought.

He only remembered leaving the motel in a rush, leaving Dean. He just had to get away, clear his head again, coming to terms, trying to think, to comprehend.

But this time he just couldn't. The rage in his brother's eyes as Dean's hand curled into a fist. The fury he had felt rippling off his brother as he was pushed into the wall. He had felt so betrayed in that moment. And it had hurt him, hurt him so bad… more then the cold that had tormented him the last hour or so.

The cold… he blinked owlishly. Something about this should alarm him, but he didn't know what, didn't care anymore.

He was tired, so tired… and he was all alone. His brother wouldn't come looking for him, because Dean… and then even this thought were lost and Sam felt his eyes droop, as he curled into a tight ball. Something wet ran over his face to freeze there and he wondered if he was crying, because he didn't know why… but soon enough all questions running through his head ebbed away and his mind went blank… cold like the frozen floor he lay upon.

---

He had pushed the heavy door open and was rooted for the blink of an eye as his eyes rested on the curled up figure on the floor.

"Sammy!"

With two large steps he was beside his brother, falling to his knees, hands hovering for a moment.

This was entirely his fault.

"Sammy…" he whispered, almost choking on the name, as his hands moved frantically, searching for a pulse in the crook of Sam's neck. Sam's skin was so cold to the touch, it almost hurt.

Dean blew out the breath he had held as he felt the slow and gentle thump beneath his fingertips.

As he slowly turned Sam onto his back, another wave of rage made him clench his teeth at the obvious abuse his brother had taken. For a moment he considered paying the unconscious bastard out there another visit, but pushed that thought away as he felt Sam's muscles tremble flimsily under his touch, still trying to produce warmth. He knew he had to act fast, that hypothermia already had it's clutches on his little brother.

He eased out of his jacket, ignoring the cold that bit into him almost immediately.

Sam first.

Pulling his sibling into a semi-sitting position, he wrapped the coat around Sam's shoulders as a small groan made him shift his concentration from the zipper to his little brother's face.

"Sammy?" he asked, waiting for a reply and almost sighed in relief as Sam's lids fluttered to reveal dazed and confused hazel eyes.

"D-D-ean…" this one stuttered word sounded so lost and scared Dean acted on pure instinct. Wrapping his arms around Sam he pulled him in, felt Sam's hands clutch his shirt, shivering hard suddenly.

"'s okay, Sammy. I gotcha. 's okay…" he consoled, followed by a litany of "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

---

He didn't know what to think, what to feel. Everything was messed up; thoughts and emotions running amok inside his head and heart. He couldn't let go, held on to the life-line that was his brother.

His hands clutched the soft material of Dean's shirt as he rested his head against his brother's chest, listening to the hard and fast thumping of his older brother's heart, enjoying the warmth coming from the body in front of him.

"C-c-old…" he managed between chattering teeth and all the answer he got was a throaty laugh and arms that tightened their hold.

"I know. I know… I need to get you out of here, you hear Sammy? We need to get you somewhere warm. Talk to me, okay? Keep talking… don't go to sleep."

He made a jerky movement with his head to indicate he understood and tried his voice again.

"Y-you… not… mad at me?" he asked, suddenly remembering their fight.

The arms that held onto him froze.

"I… never was, Sammy…" Dean's voice whispered.

"Tha's 'ood…" he slurred as he felt something change, his vision turning grey and fuzzier around the edges. He gasped, starting shiver more violently as he tried to hold onto reality and his brother.

"Dean…" it wasn't more then a whisper, far away even to his own ears.

"Sammy…" the voice demanded, making him push himself harder.

"Thought… youuu…. lefff me…" he fought to say this.

"Never, never, never…"

It was the last thing he heard from his brother as another wave of iciness swept his mind blank again and he slipped back in that place between unconsciousness and wakefulness, where nothing was existent.

---

Sam's scaring me. Sometimes I don't know how the kid can be so smart and stupid at the same time.

How did he come up with the idea I'd abandon him? I've been angry, yeah. To be honest I'm angry most of the time. I'm angry at the world for all the evil out there, angry at my dad for starting to hunt those evil sons of bitches and forcing me to join and sometimes I'm even angry with mom that she died; that she had let all this happen. And most of all I'm angry at myself for forcing Sam to help me carry that burden, for not being able to protect him from this.

But I've never been angry with Sam.

I huff, as I push to my feet taking him with me, using this anger now to give me more energy for the task, because Sam's everything but a light-weight.

Staggering I keep my hold on my little-big brother and start to drag him out of here.

The kid's shivers only occur occasional now, and he's lax in my arms, although his eyes are not closed fully. I know he's fighting, but still it scares me. God he's so cold.

My baby is waiting outside the door and I wedge Sam between my body and my girl, fighting with the passenger's side-door. When I finally wrench it open, I ease my precious burden in there as cautious as I can. Sam's breath tickles the skin on my neck and it calms my frazzled nerves, something as trivial as feeling the exhale of his breath.

I hurry to get the blankets from the trunk and wrap them around Sam's frame. Not much considering he was at least an hour in that frigging freezer, but once I have him at the motel I'll see that I'll warm him up as fast but as careful as possible… which means… and I grimace at this… cuddling!

---

It's an odd feeling I have as I wake up. My skin feels aflame, hot, burning and prickling and it takes me a second to figure out that the awful trembles have subsided. I've warmed up. And with the memory of the cold all the aches in my body come ploughing into me. I gasp silently, trying to sit up, only to tense as something at my back moves, arms wrap around my shoulders, pinning my arms to my body and I hear a familiar grumble in my ear.

"Stop it, for crying out loud! You gave me enough of a scare tonight. If you continue this I'll get an ulcer and grey hair by tomorrow."

It's him. And all the thoughts I had earlier come back to me. I remember our fight, him pushing me into the wall, hands clenched into a fist, ready to strike. I wrestled out of his grip then, running, leaving, not turning back. And I was afraid that he'd be gone. For good this time. But he didn't go. He came for me.

And I have to laugh and to cry at the same time, the sound I make mirroring the confused feelings inside of me.

"Relax…" his voice softens as his arms around me tighten. "The cold's still messing with your head. I got you. Relax…"

And I lean into him, feel the heat of his body seep into mine. My eyes close and I feel another wave of tiredness sweep me away. But before I fall asleep I have to tell him… for once I have to tell him…

"Thank you…"

I feel him smile behind me and I know it's a genuine smile from the sound of his voice.

"Don't mention it, little brother…"

**FIN**

* * *

I think this is pure sap... like sappy sap? Right? Thanks for reading...


	3. hurt

Hey all!

Thanks for the reviews and I'm happy that you liked the stories so far... I have to admit, what's going to happen now is kinda my fave... at least at the moment.

So... I hope you'll enjoy the hurt!panicky!Sam... and I hope I meet your expectations and that the panic-moment will be enough in this story.

And for all who love sap... you'll get it *gg*...

Now, enjoy. And reviews, suggestions, ideas are welcome *nods*

* * *

**3**

He bucked against the body in his back, trying to shake it off, trying to free himself, but it was to no avail.

A rotten hand clamped his mouth shut, finger-nails suddenly growing to claws, and for a moment he truly panicked, unable to breathe anymore. Then a sharp pain made him scream against the hand, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes as he felt something dig into his back, wriggling its way forward. His breath came in hitching gasps as he fought against the pain. The nerve-ends of his spine sent daggers throughout his body and he felt his legs give away and still the finger of the claw that was embedded in his back was wriggling, moving deeper, warm blood running down his back, pooling at the waistband of his jeans.

A soft whimper escaped his throat, still suffocated by the hand on his mouth.

"Shhhh! Beautiful one, Precious one. You'll be my best work; complete my collection. Shhh!"

He felt his body slowly start to shut down, his nose flaring as he tried to feed his failing muscles with more oxygen. All feeling except the burning sensation running along the nerve-fibres slowly left his body, the muscles in his arms twitched and he was sure whatever happened at the moment was caused by that claw in his back. Soon he would be completely helpless, immobile, paralyzed… he felt his heart skip a beat and flinched as the hold of the creature tightened. Strength waned fast now, and although he tried to hold on as long as possible, soon enough his arms fell limp, letting go of the sleeve he had clawed on to pry his assaulters hands from his mouth. His head was spinning, bolts of light flashing up as he scrunched his eyes close. No chance now! No chance to fight!

"Shhhh, almost there now…" he whimpered again, the sound swallowed by the huge paw, and once more the creature made a soothing sound.

Nausea made bitter bile creep up his throat as the claw was removed from his back with a squishing sound and he swallowed. Throwing up was no option. He could feel the creature's hand move from his back to wrap around his stomach, and the hand gagging him pushed his head back, so it rested on the creature's shoulder, then slowly moved down to rest on his rushing and stumbling heart.

"Calm now. Shhh, my precious. Beautiful sound, so beautiful…" Another wave of sickness cruised through Sam's body and he tried to whimper, but his voice was gone too.

Before he knew it he was pushed forward, roughly, the one hand on his stomach digging hard and his throat seized as he started to retch, dark, glassy bile coming out of his mouth and nose.

"Let it out. Let it out." The creature coaxed, putrid breath forcing Sam's stomach to cramp again.

His head was swimming, sweat running down his face, breath coming in sharp little gasps and he felt totally spent when the heaves eventually stopped.

"I know, I know." The creature whispered quietly. "My poison's not easy to cope. But it's the only way my pretty boy…"

Another shudder went through his frame and he tried to hold on, but it was futile. Slowly the panic and fright ebbed away, as every thought he ever had quieted down. He didn't know what had happened anymore, where he was, what was going to happen… and eventually his eyes betrayed him, as the world around him grew dark.

Hands heaved him up and over bulky shoulders and Sam wondered what this meant.

Then even this thought left him and for the first time in his life his brain was quiet.

---

He woke up with a start. His eyes were darting around in the darkness, trying to find out where he was. Wisps of memories had him on edge, frightened, because they were indistinct, yet at the same time so full of terror. Every muscle in his body tensed and he shook with weakness as he pushed himself up on his forearms, his head spinning with the movement and stars dancing across his vision. A shudder ran through him as his fingers came in contact with something wet and sticky on the floor beneath him, but he didn't have time to think about this more thoroughly before he heard someone whistling a soft tune.

Turning his head slowly to the direction the sound was coming from he could see dim light coming through a small gap in the wall. The soft, gentle light of a candle or torch was casting shadows outside of the small room he had woken up in. He flinched as a brick was put in place, narrowing the gap. Someone built a wall… someone was walling him in.

He tried to get to his feet, to stand, to walk over and fight his way out, but his muscles and bones didn't obey and he fell back with a soft thud.

"Nooo…" he whimpered, fire burning up and down his spine, forcing tears into his eyes, but still he tried to crawl forward, to the light, out of the small alcove with no escape.

"No!" his throat hurt from that one word but it was louder this time, with more strength.

And the whistling stopped. Cruel, cold, inhuman eyes peeked into the small space Sam was lying in and looked down at him, a glint of a smile gracing those eyes. Evil.

"You're awake, precious one…"

The voice of the thing sounded like nails on a chalkboard, chilling his very core and he shrank away, crawling, from the gap, the man and the light.

He slumped against the wall on the other side of the room he was in, pressing himself further in there, trying to melt with the masonry.

The creature didn't seem disturbed by his reaction at all. He could hear another brick being picked up and it talked, nonchalantly.

"I'm soon done. Then you'll be mine forever. Like all the others. But you're the most beautiful one. Strong… nice heartbeat… it will linger in here. Every time I'll stop by here and put my hands on the rough stone. I'll be able to feel your heartbeat. Every time my ear'll rest there I'll hear your heart beat. Beautiful, so beautiful…"

There was a hollow sound as another brick was put into place in the wall, narrowing the gap of light further.

"No…" Sam's "no" was soundless as he shook his head, tried to deny what was going to happen.

"No…" mobilizing all of his reserves he forced his voice to work.

"Dean!" he screamed, the world around him plunged into darkness as the last brick in the wall was put in place, leaving him in his deadly prison.

---

Dean jolted awake, the name of his brother on his lips, his heart beating hard and his breath coming in little, fast gasps.

"Dammit!" he slammed his fist onto the table-top, feeling the pain running up his arm. Pushing to his feet he paced, his hand running through his hair, over his face.

"Think Dean, think." And he suddenly stopped in mid-stride. "Sonuvabitch!" he whispered, again cursing himself for not realizing it sooner.

Without thinking further, he grabbed his coat, shrugged into it and left the motel-room.

He was hunting now and the damn bastard would pay for taking Sam from him…

---

He couldn't tell the time anymore, nor if his eyes were closed or open. Although cold had settled in his bones, the fire continued to blaze through his body, eliciting small whimpers every now and then.

Panic seemed to be his constant companion now. He had screamed himself hoarse after the sounds outside his little prison had died down… now everything around him seemed hazy and was not important anymore. The only sound he could listen to was his ever-present heart beat, surrounding him, cocooning him in.

A small sob escaped as he slowly rolled to his side, facing away from the new-built wall.

_Close your eyes and imagine…_

A soft voice from his past spoke to him.

It was Dean's voice when they were both little and he had been afraid to go to sleep. Dean's voice then had coerced him to sleep by telling him to close his eyes and imagine… he was a knight on a horse then, or flying on the back of a dragon, or...

_Close your eyes and imagine…_ and Sam listened and just did that.

---

The only sound he heard was the splish-splash of his feet with every step he took. The temperature in the catacombs was freezing; water was dripping from the ceiling, landing on his hair, his face, his eyelashes. He was soaked, but didn't care.

Sam had been gone almost 72 hours. It had taken him almost 24 hours to find the son of a bitch, hunting him down. He was dirty, bruised, drenched in blood and tired. God, he'd never been so tired... and scared.

Scared to not find Sam in time; scared what had happened to Sam while this bastard had had him in his clutches.

He stopped as he took the fork to his left, sniffing the air. Yuck. The sweet, nauseating smell immediately assaulted his senses. He was there. This was the tunnel butt-face had talked about.

Holding tighter to the sledge-hammer in his hand he swallowed. _Please be okay. Please be okay._

His flashlight stopped at the first, only recently built wall and he took a deep calming breath.

"SAM?!" His voice displayed a calmness and strength he didn't feel.

---

At first he didn't know what had disturbed the stupor he was in. His mind just recognized that something had changed.

Another hollow thud let him flinch, his mind frozen in a sudden panic again.

"Noooo…" he slurred, shrinking back at the next thud that was followed by an odd rumble.

Then silence descended once again, before a voice he thought he would never hear again spoke, the words hoarse with pent up emotion.

"Holy… Sammy?!"

---

His fingers and wrists hurt from the force he put in every blow. But he didn't care. Another swing connected the steel with the brick-wall and this time it budged, a few bricks falling. Dean was almost euphoric. Lifting his heavy arms again, he took a deep breath and used all his strength to bring the wall to the ground.

Dust tickled in the back of his throat and soon the air was replaced by a god-awful stench.

He didn't want to take a look, but nevertheless he took it, expecting to see another rotten corpse.

His brain needed some seconds to recognize the huddled figure lying at the far end of the small chamber, showing him his back.

"Holy… Sammy?!"

He scrambled over the fallen bricks, ignoring the smell, hurrying to his brother's side. His flashlight wavered as he saw the blood, breath hitching as he slowly knelt down beside his brother.

Sam's back was coated in blood and with flying fingers Dean lifted the shirt to reveal a small, deep stab-wound that looked like it was inflicted by a claw. The wound only seeped a little blood now, but Dean could see the puddle on the floor. This was serious and frighteningly near his little brother's spine.

"Awww, Sammy…" he whispered, searching in his pockets for a handkerchief, pressing it down on the wound, wincing slightly at the heat radiating from his brother.

It was clear that infection had already set in.

His other hand gently touched Sam's shoulder, felt him flinch under his touch.

"Sammy? You with me dude?" He bent forward trying to get a good look at his little brother's face, stopping as he saw Sam's eyes were open, staring unblinkingly, lost, and then he heard the hoarse mumble, barely there. He had to strain his ears to understand the words.

"_Close your eyes and imagine…__ close your eyes and imagine… close your eyes and imagine…" _

---

He fought. He kicked. He yelled. He punched. He needed to get free. He needed to get away. He didn't want to die there. In the darkness.

"Dean!" His voice wasn't more then a rough whisper that escaped his sore throat, followed by a weak sob as his hands were pinned to his body yet again.

"No… nonononono!" he tried to stop the creature. "H'lp… Deeee…"

"Sammy…" and there it was… that voice he had known for all his life. Could it really be him?

"'s okay, little brother. Shhhh… you're safe… shhh…"

"Nonononono…" his eyes snapped open and he was almost blinded by the harsh, bright light.

Dark shadows danced around him, agitating him even more, but one shadow stood, unmoving in front of him. And eventually his eyes were able to bring back color into the black and white and he stared into the familiar face of his older sibling.

"Sammy…"

Sam blinked heavily, his struggles subsiding immediately, utterly exhausted and spent.

"'s okay. I've found you. You're at the hospital. You hear me? 's okay. You're safe… you're safe…"

Some of the sheer and unrelenting panic left Sam's eyes before they drifted shut again. The last thing he felt before he was out again, was a gentle hand going through his hair and Dean's soft mumble of "Sleep. You're safe. I got you Sammy…"

* * *

---Epilogue---

"Sam…" Dean's sigh was exasperated as he pushed himself into a sitting position, looking over to his brother.

"… could you just stop tossing and turning?"

"No…" Sam's voice still was slightly hoarse, even now, three weeks after the incident.

"Why, it's easy. Lie on your back… and… stop!" Dean's fist hitting the mattress supported the irritation in his voice.

"Dean…" it was more a question then anything.

"Yeah…" he answered with a sigh.

"I can't sleep…" Sam admitted. This information was answered with another huge sigh, and the rustling of sheets. Only seconds later Dean plopped down beside Sam on the bed.

"Sammy…" it was said apprehensive, almost shy, and Sam just waited for him to continue.

With a deep sigh Dean started again:

"Sammy… just… close your eyes and imagine…"

**FIN**

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it... let me know what you think. _

_TC,  
Lee_


	4. tired

So, here I am again guys!

With some more for ya. This story is supposed to be Tired!Sam... and I was thinking what would keep Sam from sleeping... well, read my answer to that ;)

Thanks for all the awesome reviews and alerts and fave-clicks. I hope you'll like this little story too.

And thanks "deanandhisimpala" for her beta-ing and for all who joined later... she did the original "Only brothers understand", targeting Dean ;)... and I'm doing the same to Sam now ;) - but different (at least I hope).

Enjoy tired Sam!

* * *

**4**

There had been so much blood this time. He shuddered as he remembered the warm liquid running through his fingers while he tried to keep pressure on the gaping wound... Dean's stifled groan as he had pushed down hard on his belly… and then the breathy voice.

"Sam… we gotta get outta here…" the moment Sam had dragged Dean through the door of the abandoned warehouse a loud roar erupted from deep within the place, the shock-wave making him lose his hold on Dean, who was airbourne for a few moments before tumbling to the ground in a graceless heap several feet away.

Sulphur satiated the air, making breathing almost impossible. Then he saw the fire-wall and he knew if he didn't move fast, he'd lose another person to the demon.

Stumbling to his feet Sam pushed forward, saw the fire grow like a disfigured flower, moving towards his brother. Manic laughter filled the air, taunting him as he willed himself to run faster. He saw Dean move his head, looking up, eyes dull and confused and… then he was there, dropping down, protecting his brother with his own body.

He felt the heat of the fire as it rushed over his legs, back and head, heard the scream of the enraged demon, before the heat died down and the air grew cold, leaving them in an eerie silence.

---

Fire!

He stood there, frozen, immobile watching the fire around them grow. The fierce warmth burned his skin as he watched in utter terror while his brother inched further up the wall, his head touching the ceiling.

Dean's mouth was open in a silent plea for help, blood running over his lips, along his throat, until it soaked into the rim of his tattered shirt.

Manic laughter filled the air and sulphur took his breath away. The flames licked higher, fueled by the demon's power.

"Sammy…" he heard the words despite the roaring fire around him, saw Dean's eyes going dull…

"SAM!" with a gasp he bolted upright and stood, blinking as he tried to clear his vision.

"Sam…" the voice repeated his name tiredly and Sam just reacted.

"Dean! What is it? You hurt? You need anything?" his voice frantic and concerned.

"Sammy…"

Gently he sat down on his brother's bed, silence settling over them for a few seconds.

"What did you dream about?" Dean's voice was already laced with sleep again.

"'s nothing…" Sam answered, watching as his brother's eyes drooped.

"You cried…" Dean blinked heavily.

"Just a stupid nightmare…" he dismissed.

"Was it about…?" Dean whispered, falling asleep again.

Sam sat there, staring down at his brother, watching the gentle rise and fall of Dean's chest - something he almost had lost a few days ago, as the demon almost eviscerated his brother and burned him in fire.

And every time ever since, as soon as he closed his eyes he was back there. And every time he lost his brother. Like he had lost so much already.

And again, he didn't go back to sleep, instead he sat there, listening to his brother's soft in- and exhales.

---

Early sunlight flooded the room, dyeing the walls in gentle red-orange.

The smell of coffee and quiet movements within the room woke him. Blinking his eyes open, he listened to the gentle tapping on the keyboard of the laptop.

He still felt tired. The last couple of days had been a blur and he knew he hadn't been a lot of help lately.

Sam seemed quiet and withdrawn. And always there. Usually he hated being mother-henned, but this time was different. It was like, deep down he knew that something was up with his little brother, only he wasn't able to pin-point to it yet.

Slowly he pushed himself up, grimacing at the pain that still tore into him every time he moved.

And then Sam was there again, his hands wrapping around his biceps, pulling him upright, pushing pillows behind his back and a cup of coffee in his hands.

"Hey…" he greeted, sitting down on his own bed, looking at him with a gentle smile.

"Hey…" Dean greeted in answer, taking a sip from his mug. For the first time in days he felt the tiredness lift slowly, ease back, not trying to drown him again.

"How… are you?" he lifted his head, taking in Sam's appearance for the first time in days, nearly dropping the cup.

Sam's skin was pale and pasty, the only color in his face the dark smudges under his eyes. His cheeks were peppered in day-old stubble and his shoulders were hunched tiredly, while his eyes darted around the room nervously, here and there, only able to rest for a few seconds.

Tiny bits of memories sneaked their way into his brain.

Starting with when he first had woken up in the hospital. Sam had been there then, sitting by his bedside. He hadn't been really lucid at the time, but he remembered Sam's presence. Nonstop.

Then the day he had been released, Sam helping him to the car. The drive back he had already fallen asleep again and he couldn't remember how he had gotten into the motel-room. But Sam had been there, too. Always and every single time he remembered being awake. Sam had been there.

"You nearly died…" the voice Sam spoke with was tiny, his eyes averted to his lap now, as his fingers interlaced and played with each other.

"Sammy…"

"I… could see… they… they…"

"Sam…"

"They had to shock you…"

"Sam…"

"The demon…"

"Please Sam…"

"… he almost took you too…"

"Sam. Stop it!"

"And now… everytime I… I… close my eyes…"

"No…"

"I… I can see you burn like Mom, like… Jess…"

He had known it was bad this time. Had felt the blood burbling out of his body, his life draining away, but never had he imagined…

"Sam… it wasn't your…"

And Sam's emotion turned from sad and devastated to rage within the blink of an eye.

He pushed to his feet, staring down at Dean, eyes burning with fury.

"What, Dean!" he snarled. "It wasn't my fault?" he laughed coldly, clenching his fists. "It. Is. My fault. You know? Every single person I love…" he stopped there and added sadly, "or loved… Every. Single. Person. Dies. I'm like a ticking time-bomb; waiting to blow into the faces of the only people I ever trust and care about."

"Sam…"

"I can hear the frigging demon's laughter, you know? Hear him taunt me, telling me that HE could always get to you… that there would be NO WAY to protect…"

"Dammit. Sam. I'm alive. I ain't dead yet. I ain't…" he felt a sharp pain rip through his abdomen and gasped in a breath.

And before he could recoup Sam was on the other side of the room, grabbing his coat.

"I need fresh air…"

The door slammed shut and Dean sat there, watching it and the empty room.

---

The anger had left Sam as soon as he left the motel-room. He took in huge gulps of breath, swallowing down his upend emotion. Tears blurred his vision as he choked on a sob.

And suddenly he felt so tired. All the adrenalin and fear and stress that had kept him moving evaporated and he stumbled towards the Impala, his knees buckled and he dropped to the ground beside the car, not able to control himself anymore.

Mom had died. Jess had died. Dean…

A warm hand touched his shoulder and he swallowed down another sob.

"Come back to the room. You're exhausted…"

_Dean is alive._

He felt a tug at his sleeve and went with the flow. Ever so slowly they walked back to their motel-room.

He didn't fight, didn't have the energy to do anything, as his brother pushed him down on his own bed, removed his boots, his coat, pulled the covers back and forced him to lie down.

"I'm still here, Sammy…" his brother's voice was calm, maybe a little tired - but not dead.

_Dean is alive. _

"You need to sleep now…"

"No…" he weakly replied, trying to move under the covers but his body was so heavy.

"Stop fighting me Sammy…"

Dean kept his hold on Sam and watched the tears that tracked down Sam's face right before his little brother drifted off.

---

_Dean was pinned to the ceiling again. The warehouse was on fire. Thick and acid smoke congested his lungs as he stood there, __staring at the demon. _

"_Sammy…" he looked up at Dean, watching him bleed. But Dean's eyes didn't go dull and empty this time. _

"_I'm alive." _

And with that the dream faded. He felt a warm hand on his chest, and lifted himself enough to see Dean almost in the same position as he had been when he had forced Sam to sleep.

He smiled at his fast asleep brother, slumped over, facing him, with his mouth slightly parted and hair sticking out every which way.

He gently nudged Dean, first receiving no reaction, then a grunt as sleep-dazed eyes met his.

"Go to sleep." He whispered, feeling Dean push himself upright with trembling muscles.

"What about…"

"'m fine." Sam answered him.

"Now go and get some more rest."

"No more all-nighters?" Dean asked in between two huge yawns.

Sam smiled at that.

"Promise."

Sheets rustled as Dean settled in his own bed and silence descended over the pair.

"Dean?" Sam suddenly asked.

"Mmmhhmmmm?" Dean mumbled.

"Thank you." Sam said.

"What for?" Dean breathed, sleep already claiming him.

Sam waited for his breath to even out and then answered.

"For not dying…"

**FIN**

* * *

_I hope you liked it. More will be up soon and thank you for reading and reviewing! _


	5. sad

Hey folks!

So, at first I thought it would be really hard to write a sad!Sam story... but then it kinda hit me. Because sadness doesn't always have to be for one to sit there and cry their eyes out, right?

I like this story somehow, because we kinda learn something about Dean at the same time... well... I don't want to babble too much.

Enjoy. And your thoughts, comments and suggestions always are welcome ;)

* * *

**5**

He knows this feeling, has been here so often.

He has so many black holes in his soul, sometimes he thinks they'll swallow him alive one day.

And he had fought so hard to keep his brother's soul free of those.

But here he stands, his little-big Sam, eyes dark with loss. And he knows he has to do something, anything to keep Sam whole. To not break him - to make the first swirls of darkness on his little brother's soul go away.

So he pulls on his game-face, shows his shit-eating grin, cocks his head and throws the first flippant comment that crosses his mind at his brother's face.

He can read it in his brother's eyes, sees the „Huh?" that crosses his features. So he now has his brother's attention. Super!

„I dunno, I think we need to celebrate our victory. Let's get us some booze..." he says, the shit-eating grin still intact as he watches Sam's eyes go even darker.

„Victory?" Sam's voice is monotone and without emotion as he looks Dean in the eyes, and Dean knows to hide what he's planning to do.

„Yeah, you know Sam... the bad guy's dead. We're alive and in one piece. Victory."

„How can you call this a victory?" Sam's voice still sounds un-Sam-ish and calm, but he can see the storm now forming in his little brother's eyes.

Just one last push.

„What's your problem, dude. We killed another sonuvabitch today. Saved people..."

And there it was, he felt it happen, he was prepared as Sam rushed forward, wrapping his hands around his collar, pushing him backwards, hard, against the wall. Sam's weight pinned him there, knocking his head painfully against the plaster.

„Sam..." his voice was quiet, calm now as he watched the emotions play over Sam's features, afraid of what he saw looming there.

„They died. They died. We. Were. Too. Late. To. Save. THEM!" With every word he was pushed into the wall again, hard, painfully... like Sam's hurt rippled off of him now. He let him do it, felt his spine and shoulder blades bruise under the assault.

Eventually he pushed back, not hard enough to bring his brother to fall, but hard enough to provoke him some more.

Panting hard, he put the grin back on his face, watching Sam intently, swallowing at his brother's blazing eyes, but nonetheless he forced the words out:

„Samantha having a fit?"

Sam was like a volcano, erupting with a hoarse and angry scream. He prepared for Sam's attack, felt himself pushed back again, hitting the wall another time, the air leaving him with an "oomph" and before he knew it a fist came hurtling towards him. And there was strength in that blow. It was meant to hurt. He tried to shift sideways, felt the knuckles only graze his cheek-bone instead of hitting him fully, but it was enough to let the skin split and tears blurred his sight.

He didn't feel a thing though.

Adrenaline rushed his body as he recognized it for what it was. Sam was open, vulnerable, ready… and this was what he had waited for.

With an incredible fast movement his arms wrapped around Sam, forcing and fighting for dominance for a moment. His breath came hard as he finally managed to pin his little brother's arms to his body.

Sam bucked against the embrace he suddenly was drawn in, hard shudders running up and down his spine. He didn't want this. He was angry… he needed to… needed to…

„Let go of me!" it was a snarl, the voice hard and icy, and in return the arms around him fastened their hold. "Let me go!" the words are frantic, panicky, afraid, as control slipped.

„Shhh..." Dean continued to hold on, let his brother go berserk, fight against him, let out his pent up emotion. The bad emotion. The one eating you alive.

„Shhh..." and ever so slowly the fight left Sam.

„'s okay... I know..." he finally said as he felt Sam lean into him, the fists that had been trying so hard to hit him earlier suddenly clutching his shirt. "It's okay now."

And the first sob wracked his little brother's body.

„They were only kids..." Sam's voice is small and muffled, his body now so close, trying to melt into him, it made breathing almost impossible.

„I know..." Dean simply said. Not able to keep his brother on his feet, he slowly slipped down the wall he still was perched at, taking Sam with him, not letting go, as he continued to soothe.

He had won twice today, and he smiled into the chocolate-brown mop of hair, enjoying the victory, swallowing down the lump in his throat, as his arms kept their hold on his brother.

They sat like that forever. At last Sam's sobs died down, his breath evened out and the trembling vanished.

When Sam eventually pulled back all that was left in his eyes was Sam. Pure and innocent and whole, not dark and scary and broken.

"Oh my god…" he heard his brother whisper and it took him a moment to register what Sam meant.

Before he had a chance to react, hands wrapped carefully around his jaw, holding his head still, tilting it to the side and a soft litany of "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" was all that could be heard.

"'s nothing…" Dean grabbed hold of his brother's hands, prying them away from his face.

"I hit you…" Sam said, eyes dark with guilt, the gaze never leaving the mark he had left on his brother's face.

"Stop fussing. I made you hit me…" Dean answered, exasperated, giving him a cheesy smile.

Sam ignored the words, instead his gaze travelled up and down his brother's body, scrutinizing. "Are you hurt elsewhere?"

"You hit like a girl…" Dean muttered, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Dean…" his voice sounded slightly irritated.

"What?! You do hit like a girl…" he waved his hands at Sam, wincing as the movement jostled the bruised area at his back.

He knew Sam saw it as he saw his little brother's face drop, before Sam's hands wrapped around his upper arms and pulled Dean to his feet.

"Let me check you…" Sam's voice was gentle and sad again as he led Dean to one of the Queens.

"It wasn't your fault." Dean wanted to struggle against his little brother's hold.

"Let me…" Sam said again, and Dean relaxed. His little brother needed to play nurse. He could live with that. Better than with angry, raging Sam anyways…

"'kay Florence…" he mumbled

"Jerk…" Sam muttered as he lifted the shirt carefully.

"Bitch." Dean retorted.

…

Sam listened to the soft breaths, letting the events of the day repeat themselves again and again.

He had felt so lost and scared and angry and hurt… and sad. Sad for the innocents that had to die… and Dean… Sam's gaze wandered in the dark, came to rest on the lump on the other bed.

Dean had known. Dean had known how he felt, better than he even did himself. He swallowed.

His stupid brother had known, and he had provoked and manipulated and prodded him to let go of all that pent up emotion and… Sam had fallen for Dean's game, had lashed out at the one person available. The one person that stood by him, stood up for him, for as long as he had lived.

And he had hurt his brother.

Sam shook his head.

"Stupid bastard…" Sam whispered. Pushing up he stood, padding over to watch his sleeping sibling. And in the darkness of the room, standing over his brother Sam swore:

"Never again... I'll never let you push me that far again."

Because the knowledge of what had happened today, what Dean was willing to do for him, ripped a dark, swirling hole in his very soul. And it hurt... it hurt...

**FIN**

* * *

So, that's it... what do you think????


	6. headache

Heya all!

Okay, first of all... I didn't intend to keep you waiting for... well, months... so, sorry for that. I had a couple of really busy RL-weeks, but now I'm back.

And I have this story for you. It switches from Sam's POV to Dean's POV and contains some headache!hurt!Sam, and I guess you can say some caring!bigbrother!Dean.

That's all... brotherly love, pain... and some persons kinks coming true *gg*

Enjoy! Thanks Kripke, for borrowing us the boys to play ;)

* * *

He fought against her, his ear-drums almost bursting while she screeched. Her voice was a multitude of distorted screams. He bucked, trying to free his hands and when her fingers touched his head, everything around him grew dim. It was only her and him. He felt his brain freeze under the assault of icy-cold fingers and his breath caught in his throat as she continued to search and prod inside of him.

When a sharp, agonizing pain erupted, he felt himself arch his back, open his mouth in a pained gasp and then… the screech of the banshee died down to a gentle sing-song; soothing, comforting, the words lulling him, while the icy-spikes in his head seemed to melt and leave him with warmth and pleasure.

She smiled down at him, baring rotten teeth under her ghostly-pale features and bent forward to kiss him, her hair waving in an ever-present breeze.

His eyes frozen on her intense gaze, he could feel her lips touch his. A strange kind of energy seemed to surge through him as she tried to deepen the kiss, leaving him breathless, mellow, weak…

He didn't know what happened, but suddenly the peace and calm he felt as she kissed him was gone and a shriek rattled his very core, his head; suddenly shooting daggers into every fiber of nerves he possessed… an her presence was gone, leaving him aching for more and… naked… without protection…

The pain in his head robbed him of any common sense, as he writhed on the floor, his hands wrapping around his head to protect it, to stop it from falling apart.

His eyes scrunched close and it took him awhile to understand that it wasn't her doing all the screaming and wailing; it was all him.

He stopped and took a shuddering breath, flinching as hands touched his shoulder trying hard to scamper away from the fingers that send his nerve ends aflame again.

"Sam…" the word reverberated in his head, sounding like a screech, as another wave of fiery agony searched its way through his body like molten lava, to burn and destroy…

"Sam…" just a sound, no sense, no memory, no recognition. And pain all-consuming, tremendous pain.

"Breathe, Sam… breathe!"

The swell of words echoed hollowly through his head, and then, like an overload, he saw a bright light and could feel his heart stop for a moment as the excruciating pain peaked, before everything turned black and quiet.

---

Dean had seen it happen, not able to stop it; to do anything… the Banshee latching onto his brother, pinning him to the mossy ground, he had seen Sam writhe and buck under her, trying to free himself… until… her fingers had touched Sam's head. The moment they connected Sam had frozen.

He had started to run then, yelling his brother's name over the roaring wind that suddenly blew, saw Sam arch as her fingers searched and prodded. She bent over and Dean knew what she was going to do. He lifted his shot-gun with the knowledge that it would probably hurt Sam… but he had to stop her from continuing this.

When the rock-salt blasted into her, she broke the kiss, ripped her hands away from his little brother, her head snapping around, eyes dark with malice and fury. And then she shrieked.

It felt like his ear-drums were about to split, something warm running down the side of his neck. But he didn't care, didn't hesitate to shoot a second time, killing her screech as she dissipated into thin air.

Sam curled into himself, hands wrapping around his head, the sound that was coming from his kid-brother something between a scream and a wail.

He hurried to Sam's side, bruising his knees as he hit the ground hard, his hand already outstretched to touch, to soothe.

"Sam…" he could see blood seeping from his little brother's nose and ears, felt the muscles underneath his hand taut as a bow-string and listened to the heavy wheeze as Sam tried to inhale.

"Fucking bitch!" he growled.

"Sam…" he tried to rouse his brother, knew the touch of a Banshee was excruciating, her kiss poison and the longer it lasted...

Panic was suddenly washing away the last of his composure, stopped him from thinking clearly as Sam failed to take another breath.

"Breathe Sam, breathe! Damnit!"

---

It was an odd sensation. He wasn't able to pin-point anything, his brain so jumbled and confused. Again and again something warm ran down his throat only to expand his rib-cage and leave his body in a rush again.

A voice spoke, familiar, yet he couldn't recognize it and the words that were being spoken should mean something to him, but they didn't and then... like a reflex he wheezed in a breath and felt the cool air run down his throat, his lungs inflated and it felt so good. So good.

He repeated the motion, felt warm hands on his shoulder, around his neck, being shifted.

Another rush of words, gentle, quiet, relieved near his ear.

He involuntarily shivered, felt the arms around him tighten their hold, felt shifted around, going weightless, while the voice continued to talk. His head felt like cotton and the simple act of breathing seemed to eat up all his energy.

And right before he drifted off into oblivion once more, the voice suddenly got a name to go with it.

Dean.

---

He sat there, his hands washing through his messed up hair, while he continued to watch.

Seventeen hours since the Banshee had attacked his little brother. Seventeen hours since he had tilted Sam's head back and had breathed for him.

When Sam had started to breathe on his own again, he had opened his eyes for a few seconds. The blank, empty look in his brother's usually expressive eyes scared Dean. Fear that settled deep, that made it impossible for him to rest, to close his eyes even for a few minutes, because he was afraid what might happen if he didn't keep watch.

But Sam remained unconscious.

---

The first thing he was aware of was pain. Excruciating, hot-white pain. It started in his head then ran through him in waves, agonizing, piercing, unrelenting. He tried to cry out, but his vocal-chords wouldn't work. He tried to scream, but there wasn't a sound coming from his throat. He tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn't budge. Panic was slowly eating his way into his brain.

What had happened to him?

Why wouldn't his body obey his commands?

Then there was a hand on his forehead, keeping gentle pressure there and a voice started to talk to him. He couldn't recognize the words, but he recognized the cadence and that they were repeated over and over and over again.

And he knew the person the voice belonged to. Dean. His brother was there. Everything was going to be alright.

With that, he felt being dragged away again in a world between awareness and unconsciousness.

---

A gentle hitch was the first sign for Dean that Sam started to become aware again.

He was dropping to his knees beside his brother's bed, watching him closely, waiting patiently for him to open his eyes. But nothing of the sorts happened.

Dean could feel his brother tense up, saw tears that had involuntarily started to run down Sam's cheek as he fought against the pain.

His hand slowly touched Sam's forehead, fingers moving in a soothing circle as he quietly spoke:

"'s okay. You're not ready yet. I know... Go back to sleep, Sam. I'm here. Go back to sleep."

He continued the soothing, watched his brother's tenseness ease up slowly and eventually.

---

At first he didn't know he was awake. It was an odd sensation. Looking at things not able to understand what it was that he was seeing. Everything was foggy and unclear, surrounded by a halo. And his head hurt. God! It seemed every nerve-ending in his brain was on fire, shooting spikes of pain throughout his body. He blinked, eyes darting around in search of help and came to a rest on the lump form that was sitting on the floor, head resting on his mattress.

Tears were running down his cheeks as his breath started to hitch.

He didn't know when it happened, but suddenly the lump started to move and soon enough a face appeared over him, looking at him and hands were gently starting to wipe away the tears.

"Hey Sammy..." the voice wasn't more then a whisper, "welcome back, little brother..."

And he knew who that face belonged to, as he saw the genuine but concerned smile.

"Dean..." his lips moved without making a sound. Another spike of pain had him scrunching his eyes close again and he started to pant as his head felt like it was about to split in two.

"Hold on!" he could hear his brother say, and whimpered in answer, as he curled into himself.

He could hear his brother move about, something being dropped in a glass and crushed, then water was running.

Another whimper escaped him right before hands turned him to his back again, pulling him more upright and the mattress dipped before he was leaned back against his brother's shoulder for support.

"Okay Sammy. Let's get some pain-meds into you, huh?" He felt a cold glass on his lips, opened his mouth willingly to let the cool but bitter tasting water run down his throat.

Again he felt his brother's hand run through his hair, right before he was led back to lie down on the bed.

Minutes passed while his head kept hammering against the inside of his skull, trying to split it in two and then... everything stopped and he felt himself slipping away again.

---

Something had woken him up. He didn't know what it was at first, until he heard the first whimper. With a start he pushed himself upright meeting Sam's eyes for the first time in three days.

His brother's gaze was clouded by pain and confusion. With another push he was up on his feet, bending over Sam, catching Sam's flying eyes.

"Hey Sammy..." his voice wasn't more then a whisper, "welcome back, little brother..."

He could see Sam's lips move to form his name and was relieved that Sam seemed to recognize him.

Gently, he wiped away the tears that had formed in Sam's eyes.

"Hold on!" he whispered, knowing that he needed to get some pain-meds into his brother as long as he was conscious.

With a few long strides he was at the small kitchenette, where he already had the bottle with meds standing, dropping three pills into a glass he started crushing them, wincing as he heard Sam whimper again. Adding water to the now powdery substance he returned to his brother's bedside, watching him for a moment.

He hadn't thought his sasquatch brother would be able to curl up into such a small ball.

Slowly, he put the glass down on the bedside table, before gently turning Sam on his back again. His brother didn't put up a fight as he pulled him upright and he sat down on the mattress to offer some sort of leverage to his ailing sibling.

Then grabbing the glass again, he lifted it to Sam's mouth, watching him open his mouth obediently and slowly but steadily drinking the water.

He relished in the feeling of Sam leaning into him for a moment longer, remembering a time when his little brother had sneaked into his bed in search of comfort.

"'s okay. The worst will be over soon, Sammy. Trust me..." he continued the comfort in a low voice, feeling Sam relax into him. Slowly, he led Sam back onto the mattress, his hand washing through Sam's messy hair as he watched his features for a moment.

Pain-lines still crossed Sam's face, but he knew it would only take minutes now for the meds to start working. And soon enough, he could hear Sam sigh in relieve.

With a tired and ungraceful movement, he dropped to the floor again, watching Sam's sleep.

He knew the poison still was running through Sam's body; knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. There was no cure. You just had to let it run its course. If the kiss would have lasted any longer...

But Sam had been awake. Had recognized him. Had even tried to talk to him. Things were looking up. Just a few more hours. He blinked tiredly.

He needed to keep his watch only until Sam's body finally got rid of the poison.

He fought the fatigue, but in the end it won over him and he dropped off into an exhausted sleep.

---

He woke up to an odd keen, being on high alert immediately. His back hurt and for a moment he was wondering how he could have fallen asleep like that, but the first gurgling sound had him aware and on his feet in a blink of an eye.

"Damnit!" he yelled, not caring for a moment as he watched his brother's sluggish movement to turn to his side.

Sam was throwing up.

With shaking hands, he rolled his brother to the side, not caring that he messed up the sheet. They still had the second bed.

Sick smelling, greenish bile was running down Sam's chin, onto the top of the pillow, blanket and mattress, spilling on the floor and Sam's gurgling turned into coughing and more retching.

Tears were running down Sam's face from the exertion.

Dean kept his brother on his side for what seemed like an eternity until the retching slowly ebbed away into dry-heaving.

"It'll be over soon, Sammy... jeez! It'll be over soon. I promise... tomorrow you'll feel half-human again."

"Deee..." it was hoarse but hearing his brother's voice for the first time in over four days almost made Dean burst out in tears.

He swallowed down, grinning like a maniac.

"Yeah, Sammy... 's me..." he answered gruffly, already moving his hands under his brother's trembling body, to pull him into a sitting position.

"I know it sucks. I really do... but at least your body finally got rid of the poison. I was concerned... concerned... there for a moment."

He felt Sam shake in his arms, as he wrapped his own arms around his brother, one hand cupping Sam's head.

"You're gonna be alright now, buddy. Everything's going to be okay." he whispered into Sam's ear while he hugged his brother to him.

"Now, let's get you settled in the other bed. And I'm gonna get rid of the mess you created. C'mon!"

---

He slowly blinked his eyes open, trying to remember what had happened. His mind came up blank.

His head felt oddly numb. He couldn't describe it any better. Inhaling deeply, he could smell an acidly tang in the air.

Pushing himself upwards slowly, the world around him turned and tilted, making him almost nauseous.

Looking around the room, he could see the other bed stripped of the bedding and he wondered what had happened to it.

Then the smell and the pictures he saw connected and his eyes darted around the room in concern.

Someone had been sick. He couldn't remember it being him. And where was his brother.

Before he had a chance for calling out, a soft movement beside him had him turning his head.

There, on the floor in a semi-sitting position, with his head on the mattress was Dean, fast asleep and softly snoring.

His brother looked exhausted. As if... and suddenly images started to flood his brain. The banshee lashing onto him, forcing him to the ground, her hands prodding and searching. Pain, the tang of blood and then her lips pressing onto his in a deadly poisonous kiss.

After that everything was fuzzy. He remembered pain and an odd feeling of disconnection to the real world. The only thing he remembered almost throughout the whole ordeal was Dean.

Dean had gotten him through this all. Through the pain, the disconnected feeling. He had been there, in the darkness with him. Searching for him to bring him back.

"Hey there!" the voice was soft and sleepy but enough to get him out of his reverie.

"Hey back!" he answered, feeling as if he spoke for the first time in weeks.

"Took you long enough to finally snap out of it." His brother said. But Sam could look right through the facade. Dean had been scared. This had scared the hell out of him.

"You look like shit!" was the friendly comeback he had to that.

"Ever looked into a mirror lately?" Dean asked, pushing slowly up from his cower on the floor.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, watching Dean as he slowly slipped into his coat. The movements of his brother were slower and without their usual grace. A witness to his tiredness.

"Getting us food and coffee." Dean answered. "Any wishes?" he added, eyebrows rosen.

Sam shook his head. "Naw! Just the usual!"

Rolling his eyes, Dean muttered something under his breath.

"What?" Sam asked, scrunching his eyes in acted annoyance.

"Nothing... 's good to have ya back!"

With that and a short wave Dean was out the door to get them some breakfast.

**FIN**

* * *

Well, that's the headache!Sam story... I hope you liked it. Let me know. If you keep track you probably know, that the next story will contain Sam and Fear. Any kinks I have to know about? ;)


	7. fear

OMG! It's been like... ages... and I'm totally sorry... but this story had me... working hard. IDK why... but I didn't manage to get this into something I'd like to post. Until now.

Well... I hope at least you will like what I did with „fear".

As always... there needs to be someone hurt/comfort. But the major-part should lie on feeling fear... Let me know what you think, okay?

Enjoy! And reviews are really welcome on this one...

* * *

He stood there, frozen to the spot, mind blank, mouth slightly agape.

The lake in front of him was calm, moon light being reflected from its surface, tinting the night in a pale, bluish light.  
But nothing of this registered in his brain as he slowly turned around, staring back at the line of trees that surrounded the lake.

Fog was already consuming the trees, blanketing them. Behind the wall of white the world ended.

Tiny noises could be heard; shuffling and rustling. And whispers, promises of a better life, words of salvation, voices that asked him to join them.

"No!" he whispered, because he knew the words had only one purpose. Lure him into the fog to kill him.

"No!" he took another few steps back as an arm suddenly emerged from the fog, reaching for him.

"_Sammy…"_ the voice of his brother called out to him silently.

"No…" Sam shook his head, felt water leap into his boots as he stepped into the icy water, retreating further.

"_Sammy…"_ he could hear his brother's pleading voice again.

"Please…"

**Then…**

An unseen force ripped the gun out of his hands and lifted him off the ground, before dropping him so hard, he could feel all his bones rattle and the air leave his body in a whoosh.

Only a whimpered pant left his mouth as something sharp dug into his right hip, breaking skin. Warmth already started to soak into the denim as he came out of the pain induced haze and tried to move floppily away from the figure that was now towering above him. He blinked hard, trying to get the silhouette into focus, but seconds passed before he was able to make out the face looking down at him worriedly. Although he could see his brother's lips moving, he wasn't able to hear a thing before eventually the ringing in his ears subsided enough.

"… you okay?"

"Dean… nghh…" he tried his voice, while pain still rippled up and down his right side.

With strong arms Dean hauled him up to his feet, ignoring the pained grunts and pants Sam emitted and pushed him into motion.

"Go!"

His brother yelled, pushing him again, whirling around to face the unseen enemy.

"Dean!"

"Go! Meet me at the shore!" Dean repeated without looking back at him.

And for once Sam did what he was told.

**Now…**

The water was reaching his knees now, while the fog slowly but steadily closed in on him. The cold slowly crept up his legs, soaking his jeans, numbing the pain in his right hip.

He took another step; trying to bring some space between himself and the fog… him and his brother… he swallowed hard. Dean…

.S.P.N.

He felt feverish, as he stumbled again, cursing at the uneven ground. Somewhere to his right a branch snapped and Sam froze, wavering slightly. He stood there for a while, head turned to one side while holding his breath… listening and watching the fog as it crept slowly along the leafy ground, twirling and curling like thin, bony fingers. It seemed like it was reaching for him. Sam felt his heartbeat fasten in fear.

"DEAN?" he called in a small voice that sounded hollow, scared and quivering as he waited for a reply of his sibling.

Everything continued to stay quiet.

Undulated panic assaulted him. Dizziness sending the world in a merry-go-round and his stomach did a somersault, flooding his mouth with bitter bile and forced him to his knees.

The world kept dancing around him for a long time, twisting, distorting, growing dark and hostile. After the dizzy-spell ended, Sam was lying curled up on himself, his breathing fast and sharp, blinking against the haze he was in. After a while he slowly pushed to his feet, not knowing anymore where he was, how he came there, in which direction he stumbled to. Everything around him seemed packed into cotton, confusing him, making no sense. And the fear… he felt so utterly afraid…

"DEAN!" he hollered, his voice giving away the near panic he felt.

"DEAN!" he repeated, voice cracking at the last syllable, turning around in a circle.

"Dean…" he whispered, pitiful.

That's when the whispers started.

"_Come to us!" _

"_Join us!" _

"_It is nice here!" _

"_Let the fog take you!"_

Bewildered, Sam shook his head, staring at the fog that started to thicken and get more oppressive with each second that passed. He stumbled a few feet backwards and, eventually turned trying to flee from the mist and the voices.

"_Sammy!" _

He stopped in mid step.

"_Sammy!" _

Whirling around, he looked at the white wall of fog that was only a few feet behind him now and his heart missed a beat. The last coherent thought was ripped from his mind as terror washed it blank.

"_Sammy!" _the voice repeated its call.

"Dean…" his stomach plummeted as his brother's name left his mouth in a breathless whisper.

"Dean… no. Please…"

.S.P.N.

The water was up to his chest now and he felt the cold draining him of the last bit of strength he had left. With his next step he stumbled and pain flared up his right side. His leg buckled and he went under, the shock making him exhale and he watched fascinated as the bubbles created by his own breath formed in front of his face to dance upwards to the surface.

Then his mind had overcome the shock and worked frantically to force his body to move and get unsteadily to his feet again.

He spluttered, the taste of fetid lake-water in his mouth, blinking hard to clear his vision as water was running into his eyes.

When he was able to see again the world was gone. Fog surrounded him, its thin, bony fingers reaching out to him. The first wisp already touched him and with the first contact his heart started to beat frantically and he started to shiver even harder.

Within seconds the fog had swallowed him wholly and disembodied voices screeched at him, the sounds growing into a cacophony, now that he was at their mercy.

Hands appeared in the mist, skin pale and translucent and the smell of death surrounded him, choking him. He shrank back as one of them reached for him, his heart hammering while his chest heaved with every gasp of air he drew.

A soft sob that went unheard escaped him under the onslaught of voices and then something tangled in his shirt holding onto him. He freaked and grabbed for the appendage, trying to dislodge the rotten hand, sharp finger-nails digging painfully in his skin. The moment he touched the dead-skin, it broke. Dark, smelly blood mixed with the water, making him gag. Another set of sharp claws dug into his back, side, his upper thighs, calves. He yelled and started to trash around, tried to wipe the invading hands away. But it was futile. More and more hands held him down, dragged him further away from the shore… deeper into the lake.

Away…

His breath came in tiny, fast gasps, while his body almost spasmed from the cold. Consciousness was waning fast now, leaving him in a world of grey and death. The hands withdrew slowly, only a few of them holding onto him. Then the last hand vanished and with its support gone, he plummeted into the dark water beneath him. Blinking dazedly he stared straight into his brother's milky, dead eyes.

His mouth opened in a silent scream, oxygen he had breathed in right before he went under burbling out of him. Before he could try to move, Dean's cold hands already tangled in his shirt, trying to drag him deeper. His surviving instincts kicked in and he fought against the hold his sibling had on him, pulling, pushing, kicking, but to no avail. Dark spots started to dance in front of his eyes, the urge to breathe almost too much to bear and his movements were already starting to get sluggish. He felt the other invading his personal space even further, as strong arms wrapped around his torso and arms, holding him pinned. He sobbed involuntarily in despair then, inhaling water, starting to cough, only to breathe in more and more with each try to get rid of the liquid. His head started to spin and he could feel his eyes roll into the back of his head, while the arms holding him hardened their grasp.

A loud, pain filled screech echoed through the water and something sharp dug into the soft flesh of his back. He inhaled sharply, listening to someone cough and splutter, icy cold wind caressing his face.

His addled brain needed a moment to understand that he had broke the surface and the sounds he could hear were his pathetic attempts to breathe again. A pained yell followed by a hard tug had him under water again. The arms that had held him were gone, replaced by something digging painfully in his already hurt hip. He started trashing as he realized it was a hard mouth and teeth, sucking, biting, hurting more… It felt like forever as it fed on him, when in reality only seconds passed, before it was ripped away, gone, replaced by something more gentle, more warm, that tried to stop the blood flow.

He was too dazed and exhausted to try to save himself, more unconscious then conscious as cold air hit his face again and something dug hard into his sternum, making him gasp and cough again.

He thought he could hear someone talk beyond the loud ringing in his head and winced as the gentle pressure on his hip vanished. Carefully he was being manhandled until his heavy head was resting on a shoulder; a shoulder that shook under the cold and strain. He could feel them move again, felt the pull and push of the muscles underneath his head, not able to do anything, just lay there, letting that thing take him.

Right before he passed out he thought he could hear his brother's voice whispering his name again.

"_Sammy…"_

.S.P.N.

He woke up to a harsh pressure on his abdomen, opening his mouth to complain, he could feel water run down his chin and then he coughed.

Arms pulled him up, guiding him as he continued to cough, felt his lungs burn in agony with each wet breath he managed to force into them.

"That's it…" a voice near his ear whispered.

"That's it… breathe…"

He knew that voice, would know it anywhere, anytime, always… and involuntarily tears started to run.

He sobbed and coughed again. The arms clinging to him fastened their hold in answer, guiding him gently around, until he rested against his brother's chest, could feel Dean's heart beat hard through his back.

"Dean…" he managed to whisper, felt the hands clasped together over his stomach tightening their hold.

"'s okay…" came the soft reply in his back.

"'rything's gonna be… okay… Sammy?"

The world around him shifted, darkened, seemed to stretch and deform. He blinked against the odd sensation and when his vision finally cleared enough, the fog was back.

"Dean…?" he asked, the confusion showing in his voice and a shudder ran through him, as he remembered the milky, dead eyes he had looked into. He felt himself stiffen, looking around in alarm, his heart suddenly not able to beat in rhythm.

He didn't know where he took the strength to get himself up and away from the arms that surrounded him. Somewhere, deep in his mind he knew his reaction was irrational, because he could feel the immediate absence of warmth as he propelled himself forward and around.

Dead people weren't warm...

Small pebbles bit into the skin of his palms and the dizziness sent him sprawling.

Something wasn't right… something wasn't right… something… panic intensified the dizziness and his breathing sped up until he hyperventilated. He stopped breathing all together for a moment, when the whispers started again.

"Nonononononono…" a wave of nausea stopped the litany of no's that escaped Sam, as he forced his stiff limbs to move around and violently expelled the contents of his stomach onto the ground. The cramps seemed to drain away all the additional energy his sudden adrenalin-burst had provided and he felt the support of his arms fail.

Before he could hit the sick puddle he had created, arms wrapped around his torso again, stopping his tumble.

He weakly fought against the hold, scrunching his eyes closed, starting his enchantment of "no's" again, whilst the world around him shifted. Slowly the whispers started to recede until he was able to hear only one voice whispering into his ear, saving him from going over the edge of madness again.

"Sammy… Sammy… Sammy, calm down! It's the poison… Calm down! Jeez… stop fighting me, will ya?"

His breath came in fast little gasps and he blinked heavily against the threatening tears, yet again.

"Dean…" he whimpered as he fell back.

"Yeahh… 's me… 's me…. Shhhh…" finally the world around him settled again, as his mind became clearer and clearer. He could feel the slight warmth as he rested against his brother's chest, felt his ribcage rise and fall as Dean breathed, could feel the soft trembles that coursed through Dean's body.

"Dean?" his voice was nothing more then a croak, but the question audible enough for his sibling, nonetheless.

"'s f-frigging freezing! Do you think it's-s fun… to j-jump in after y-ou and d-rag your heavy ass-sss back to sh-shore?

Sam forced his body to react and pressed back into his brother's chest gently.

"Lost you…" Sam stuttered, eyes closing, while he wondered how it came that his brother trembled and felt cold, while he felt… nothing…

"Damn… w-we need to get you ou-outta here… Bobby's on 's way… y-you hear Sammy? Bobby... HEY!" A rough shake roused him again and he opened his bleary eyes.

"G-otta… s- stay awake, o-okay?" somewhere deep in his brain Dean's mumbled words set off an alarm, but he was too far gone already, eyes drooping.

* * *

**… two days later…**

"Damn nymph… would kill her again if I could…"

This accompanied by a soft chuckle was the first Sam's brain registered.

He felt languid and tired, stretched thin, as if…

"Sammy? Hey, you awake?" the excitement in his brother's voice was too much.

Carefully he forced his eyes to open, blinking several times to clear his vision.

Worried, green eyes stared down at him. The moment his gaze settled fully on his brother's face, the worry notched down a bit and Dean grinned at him in earnest.

"Heya, princess! You finally joined us?"

Licking his dry, chapped lips Sam blinked at him.

"'d happnd?" He groggily moved his head, looking around the room. Bobby's. He realized. He was at Bobby's.

"What happened? Well, the damn Nymph really did a number on you." For a moment Dean's eyes still twinkled, but something dark settled over that radiant green, dulling it.

"She poisoned you in her first attack… fever, hallucinations, the whole deal.

I saw you at the shore, stumbling into the water, fighting, like… something was attacking you. I tried to get to you, but she was faster, dragging you out… I almost came too late…" Dean's voice grew quiet and he dropped his gaze, only to look up again a few seconds later.

Involuntarily Sam shivered.

"I got her in the end." Dean stopped at that and reconsidered for a moment.

"And I'd kill her another few times if I had the chance… Sammy?" Dean stopped then, watching him intensely.

"You'ere gone…" Sam's voice had a new quality this time, hoarse, quivering.

"What?"

"She… took you…" Sam washed a hand through his hair agitated.

"I was so…"

"Scared?" Bobby's gruff voice supplied.

"Like… scared-out-of-your-mind scared? Not-knowing-what-to-do scared?"

Sam nodded quietly.

"She does that to her victims. It's the poison, playing your mind." Bobby diagnosed.

"It's like…"

"… your worst nightmare coming true." Sam finished.

"Could we all hug now and get over it?" Dean asked slightly annoyed.

"Dean…"

"Okay, okay… I get it. She poisoned you, let you see things… like… meeee… dead… but news-flash: I'm not! You think it was fun, to wrestle you into submission under water? To get you to the surface, while you struggled like a mad man? You think it's funny to have you stop breathing twice while I dragged your heavy ass back to shore, because you're top edge full of stinky lake-water? Do you think it's fun to have you pass out on me from hypothermia, while I try to keep you… keep you… alive?"

A heavy silence followed Dean's unusual outburst.

"Thanks." Sam's voice was barely audible as he eventually replied.

Dean's features softened as he watched Sam's trembling hands fiddling with the blanket.

"Always…" he answered in return, his voice almost as mute and soft as Sam's.

**FIN**

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_


	8. breath

Okay… so this is "Breath"! And we slowly come to an end of this series… only two chapters left.

"Broken" and "Everything".

The problem I had with this story? I couldn't – for a long time – decide who is who… so… if you are interested in the story, playing the other way around, let me know… In the end I let it run like this… I hope you don't mind!

**Vonnie!** This is totally for you!

all: Enjoy!

* * *

**Collapse**

She was straddling him, her small frame pressing down on his body heavily.

Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Sam where she had thrown him into the wall, unmoving.

Grinning down at him with yellow teeth her eyes blazed in a dark fire, her hands holding his locked above his head.

"Love is an impure, dirty feeling. I can feel it in you. You're afraid he's not okay…" her head turned towards Sam and she looked greedily at his still form.

"It is your weakness. And you'll pay dearly for it…"

She let go of his wrists, bending over him, sharp nails biting through his shirt, breaking skin.

Dean grunted in pain and bucked against the weight on top of him, listened to her words as everything around him grew hazy, as only the pain of her fingers digging deeper and deeper remained; the digits searching… searching and finding.

The last of his breath stuck in the back of his throat as he felt her touching something so intimate within him, changing it… forever.

Unconsciousness had its claws reached out for him, trying to drag him under, away from reality. But the moment she touched him inside, someone's agonized scream ripped through the haze, made him draw back and blinking against the settling darkness around him.

Sam. It had been Sam's scream. He gained strength from that, his flailing hand searching for the dagger he knew he had lost as the witch had attacked him. Sound was coming back in a rush. Sam was still screaming and he heard the bitch talk under the voice of his brother…

"… until the last breath…"

His hand found the handle of the knife and with every ounce of strength he had left, he lifted it, its blade slashing easily through her carotid artery and stopped her flow of words forever. Silently, eyes wide open she stared at him, before falling off of him sideways.

But it was too late, as only seconds later something washed through his body, invading his personal space with such vengeance; he forgot how to think or to breathe. Dean's eyes rolled into the back of his head, as he recognized the familiarity of the presence inside of him.

Sammy…

Sam's scream slowly abated to soft, hitching whimpers while Dean slowly managed to get control of his body back. Exhausted, he rolled to his side, pulling his legs up to a foetal position, a dry sob escaping his throat as he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened.

Another, gurgling sound and the feeling of sudden panic made him turn and push to all fours, forgetting his own discomfort for the moment.

Sam. He had to get to Sam!

-S-P-N-

He was pacing right outside the doors that led to the trauma-room. Not able to stay still. Not able to calm down.

They had taken him away. They had taken him away from him. But still: he could feel him, and he knew his brother felt him in return. He knew his breath was in synch with his sibling's, albeit where his body was fizzing with energy his sibling's was draining slowly.

It was the most terrifying and at the same time fascinating experience he ever had.

It felt as if his mind was ripped in two, connected to his brother, at the same time living his life and Sam`s.

And he could feel Sam here with him.

He stopped at the window for a moment, looking out into the dark night, while his hands unconsciously ran over his torn shirt, halting for a moment over the punctured wounds he had sustained. Wounds that weren't bleeding, while his brother…

His breath hitched and his stomach plummeted towards the ground. The taste and smell of iron suddenly assaulting his senses. The world around him dimmed, one feeling he wasn't all too used to suddenly rising on top to blend out all the other twisted and strange feelings that came with Sam and the weird spell the damn witch had spoken.

Terror.

Unabated terror.

He had difficult breathing, as if a chain was wrapped around his chest, someone pulling the ends tighter and tighter. He lifted his hands to his throat, gasping in breath after little breath. He knew this wasn't his body failing. This was Sam's… and with the knowledge, his brother's fear grew even stronger, dimmed the world around him further until Sam was stronger then ever present in his head. Afraid, small, helpless…

His legs moved without him knowing. The doors to the trauma room swishing open as he entered without hesitation. He tore his left arm free of the orderly who tried to stop him, balling his right hand to a fist to break the guy's nose.

Shrill beeping was everywhere around him, people shouting, to get him out.

But there was only one place he needed to be. Sam's side…

He heard snippets of words as he walked up to the gurney.

"_No sign of outer trauma…" _

"_Internal bleeding…" _

He knew what was happening. He knew that he wore the wounds to the injuries his sibling suffered from.

His hand dropped shakily on top of his little brother's head feeling the soft hair under his rough palms.

The fear was so strong inside and around him now; he swallowed against the growing lump in his throat. The taste of iron on his tongue and lips so heavy he had to suppress a gag.

He knew what was happening. God, it hurt! His little brother was hurting!

He hitched in another small puff of air, felt something run down his chin in synch with the thin trail of blood running down Sam's chin. As if the people around him and Sam could feel it, the room grew quiet; everyone seemed to watch them interact.

Dean's eyes continued to rest on his brother's face, the slowly relaxing features he had loved for as long as he remembered.

"I know what you feel…" the words a mere whisper.

"I can feel…" his fingers wiped away the bloody trail on Sam's face, before dropping to Sam's chest.

The noise died down as the staff around them stopped their frantic work completely. Dean knew what to say next, remembered the curse. But he was afraid to speak it out loud. Because if this would go down wrong… he didn't dare to even think about it. He just knew it would simply be the end of him too. So instead he closed his eyes. Let that connection he felt ever since the curse hit lead him. His calm thoughts hitting the messy, panicky jumble of feelings of his brother, fighting for dominance, asking him to listen to him, to trust him as he always had.

He knew, far away, in a real world the hospital-staff was watching him and his brother, witnessing something they would never be able to grasp nor to understand. And at some point of his consciousness he knew he would have to bail Sammy out as soon as he got everything under control…

_Controlfreak! _

It took him a moment to recognize that this word had not been formed from his mind.

_Sammy! _

_What's happening to me… us… _

"I'm scared!"

He whirled around to see a small boy looking up at him, a gentle smile forming on his lips.

"Sammy."

"Is it the monsters?"

"No, Sammy. It's just me. No need to be scared." He answered.

"I… can feel you…" the small boy said. He said nothing in return, just continued to smile.

"You… you want me to go?" He watched the small bottom-lip quiver and felt his strength waver.

"No…" he whispered hoarsely and the moment he had spoken the words he knew he had said them out loud in the real world.

He sank down to his knees, wrapped strong arms around the small child. His brother. His…

"No…" he repeated.

"I… I never want you to go. I just want you to stop… hurting."

"I'm afraid…" the small, muffled voice told him.

"I know. But, you have to trust me. You… just have to let go for a moment, okay?"

"I don't wa-wanna let go…" those few hiccupped words almost made him sob.

"Sammy… you have'ta. Don't be afraid… I'll make sure… I'll… make sure… "

He could feel breathing getting more difficult by the second.

"Sammy… please…" … the image of the small boy vanished before his mind's eyes and he slowly opened his eyes to stare into the glassy and unfocused gaze of his brother's.

"Dean…" it was a mere whisper and this time tears welled up as he watched the blood run down the side of Sam's face to his neck to soak the white sheet he lay on.

"Let go… just for a moment Sam… It'll be okay. YOU'll be okay. I… I know you will. Trust me. Just let go…"

"I don't wanna let…" the last word was drowned out by the shrill beeping and screeching of every available machine attached to Sam.

-S-P-N-

Everything he had felt the last couple of hours was gone. For a moment he felt empty, emotionally drained and utterly alone. An ache started deep within his chest, forcing his breathing to stutter.

For a moment he didn't know what was happening, as a dizzy-spell washed over him, making it impossible for him to determine where up and down and left and right was.

He could feel fingers dig into his biceps, dragging him away from the gurney and Sam, while something warm started to tickle down his sides.

The shrill beeping suddenly changed into a rhythm, while he was slowly escorted back towards the doors of the emergency-room. The ache inside his chest grew, his breath stumbling and the taste of iron in his mouth was back.

He was already in a daze as the hands that had led him out of the room let go of him. Cold washed over him, making him shudder. Behind him the doors slowly closed, before a voice boomed over all the rest of the yelling.

"Let go of me! It isn't me! It's my brother!"

He was surprised by that. Slowly, he turned around to feel something wet running down his chin, dripping to the floor. Looking at the moisture he saw the red splash of blood on the floor.

His head slowly lifted up as the door swished open again and he saw Sam standing there, eyes still glazed over but alive. Breathing.

His smile turned into a cough, more blood splattering and panic slowly made his stomach clench painfully.

He tried to draw in another breath, felt liquid run back down, clogging his airways and the world around him tilted alarmingly.

From far he could hear Sam's shout of his name. Strong hands holding onto him, guiding him down to his knees as his legs buckled, his head dropping to his kid brother's shoulder, blood draining the white shirt crimson.

"Help! I need help! Goddamnit! Help him!"

Sound and vision blackened out. The only feeling remaining was Sam. Sam everywhere.

Sam…

"_Don't let go…."_

-S-P-N-

It had felt strange and comforting at the same time. Dean invading every part of him… and he in return feeling Dean… he knew it had to be a strong spell, to bind two souls, to link them together like this.

The pain he had felt next was so intense… he didn't know where it came from, just knew it took his breath away. For a moment his hands grabbled helplessly on his chest, trying to stop it. Then blood had flooded his mouth, its iron taste almost making him puke.

He had screamed at that point, pain so intense he needed an outlet. Slowly it ebbed away, leaving him whimpering, his breath hitching, stopping him from inhaling fully. He had embraced the darkness that came next, surrendered fully to it.

-S-P-N-

"_I'm __scared!" he softly said._

_His brother whirled around to meet his wavering gaze. A gentle smile formed on his lips. _

"_Sammy." He replied still smiling. _

"_Is it the monsters?" he asked next, all but six years again. _

"_No, Sammy. It's just me. No need to be afraid." Dean answered reassuringly._

"_I… can feel you…" it was a hesitant commitment, but he relaxed further when his brother simply continued to smile._

"_You… you want me to go?" He couldn't hold back the fear that accompanied his words, his bottom-lip started to quiver as he tried keeping calm. _

"_No…" it wasn't more then a hoarse whisper, but it still_)_ reverberated through the place they were at the moment. His brother took the two steps that kept them apart and sank to his knees. Strong, warm arms wrapping around him, rocking him for a moment. His brother. His…_

"_No…" Dean repeated. _

"_I… I never want you to go. I just want you to stop… hurting." _

"_I'm afraid…" he repeated, his voice muffled by his brother's clothes and body. _

"_I know. But, you have to trust me. You… just have to let go for a moment, okay?" _

"_I don't wa-wanna let go…" Sam hiccupped, leaning further into his big brother's embrace._

"_Sammy… you have'ta. Don't be afraid… I'll make sure… I'll… make sure… " _

Panicking he forced his eyes open, every breath he drew painful and incomplete.

He knew what his brother wanted him to do. And he didn't want to, because he knew what listening to his brother meant.

Fierce, green eyes met his, looking, searching, evaluating.

Then he heard his brother's voice again. Calm, confident.

"Let go…" Dean whispered. And Sam wanted to yell "No", wanted to scream "No".

_This is my fault Sammy. _He could read it in his brother's eyes, pleading with him now.

"Let go… just for a moment Sam… It'll be okay. YOU'll be okay. I… I know you will. Trust me. Just let go…"

And he did… just for a moment, but he did.

-S-P-N-

He bolted awake to the knowledge of something bad about to happen. His brother was gone, and his breathing felt easy and without pain. He was alone again. The part of Dean that had been in him was gone.

He immediately knew what this meant: His brother had broken the curse.

Hands tried to push him back down to the gurney and he fought them off, yelled over their assault.

"Let go of me! It isn't me! It's my brother!"

He was on his feet, pushing a nurse out of his path to the door. The door swished open the moment his brother turned around, eyes fogged with pain, blood running down his chin to drop on the ground.

"Dean!"

"Sammy…" it was whispered breathlessly and soundlessly, before Dean coughed, splattering blood everywhere. His legs gave way under him. But Sam was already on the move, catching him in time to ease him to his knees.

"Help! I need help! Goddamnit! Help him!"

He could feel his brother's weight growing heavier and heavier as blood soaked into his shirt, where Dean's head lay on his shoulder.

"I won't let go! You hear?" He shook his brother gently.

"I won't let go! Don't you dare to let go, Dean. You hear? Don't you dare to let go!"

-S-P-N-

_It was a hot day, the sun beating down on the earth, warming the air. He squinted up into the burning ball, using one of his hands as a shield. _

_A shriek had him whirling around, just in time as a small body connected with him, sending both sprawling. _

"_Deeeannnn!" the little boy on top of him squealed, small body pressing him into the soft grass underneath his body, hands resting on his shoulders, keeping him down. _

_He looked up an amused giggle escaping him, but he stopped, looking at his little brother's serious features. _

"_Dean." The kid repeated his name. _

"_Whatever happens… we stay together, right? You and me." _

_He nodded, suddenly aware that the sun hid behind dark, threatening clouds. _

"_Sammy?" he asked, foreboding making his stomach turn. _

"_Whatever happens… don't let go…" _

-S-P-N-

The hospital-staff had acted weird around them, glances shared his direction when he had left his brother's side to get some coffee. It seemed they were waiting for something to happen again. Sam knew they were afraid. And as much as he'd like to have Dean under professional care, he knew as soon as his brother was showing a sign for the better he would bail him.

He knew it was only a matter of time, before someone checked into their past, find out about him and Dean. It was fear he read in those peoples eyes. They did the necessary. Tended Dean's needs, dressed his wounds. But it was apprehensive and compelled.

Dean had earned to be tended with care.

Snapping his cell-phone shut, Sam nodded to himself. Bobby was on his way. The moment Dean woke they would get him out of here, lay low for a couple of days or weeks, until his brother was better.

Sam owed it to him.

-S-P-N-.

Bobby put the key in the lock, letting himself into the motel-room quietly.

He had left right away, after Sam's call, driven down to meet them, without a real break.

At the hospital, the moment he had asked the nurse at the front desk for the room-number of his nephew the nurse's gaze had darkened and her voice had been cold as she told him the room number.

When he entered Sam had looked up from his seat beside his brother. Blood-shot eyes surrounded by dark smudges had blinked at him for a moment, before the exhaustion lifted enough and he had smiled tiredly up at Bobby.

"He's been awake. Just a few minutes, but he's been awake, Bobby." was Sam's greeting, as he pushed to his feet, took the two steps around the chair to embrace the older hunter.

"How's that idjit-brother of yours, Sam? What the hell happened?" He had listened quietly to Sam's story, nodding and groaning a few times. After Sam had finished, he went over to the bed, lowering the sheet gently, to inspect the damage.

Whistling, he turned serious eyes on Sam.

"I'll be damned..."

"It was touch and go for a while, his left lung collapsed, totally." Sam washed his hands over his hair, over his face, back to the neck before dropping it into his lap.

"But he's getting better." He lowered his voice.

"I want him out of here. I don't trust the people around here. They're afraid. Bad things can happen, when fear's clouding your mind..." he left the sentence open.

Bobby nodded.

"He'll be too weak to help."

"I know."

"We have to be extra-careful."

"I know."

"You need to sleep..."

"As soon as I know he's safe..."

-S-P-N-

He felt weird. His chest oddly congested, as if he had come down with a heavy flu. He slowly blinked sleep away to find himself staring at the threadbare, fading wall paper of the room he was in. This wasn't a hospital.

He was lying on his side, propped up by pillows he figured. Taking a shuddering breath, he felt that the expanding of his lungs was still constricted, his left side pulling painfully.

He winced, scrunching his eyes close against the pain, trying to level his breathing, but failing miserably.

"Dean… hey Dean!" A hand pressed softly down on the wound in his side, the pressure easing the pain a little.

"Easy man, easy!"

He forced his breathing to slow down and his eyes to open again, blinking against the threatening tears.

"That's it…" the hand vanished and for a moment he wanted to grab for it, but withstood the urge.

Sam looked down at him, a soft smile playing on his lips, dark smudges making the green in his eyes almost glow.

"You look like shit!" Dean's quip came out in a breathless whisper, failing their purpose.

Sam's smile grew into a smirk.

"Says the guy who's not able to keep his eyes open…"

Dean flinched and snapped his eyes open again, exhaustion already making his head swim and he groaned quietly as another wave of pain rolled over him, making his breath stumble again.

The mattress dipped and Dean could feel Sam's hand on the wound again.

"Sorry... shhh… slow down… you'll make it worse…"

He concentrated on the gentle pressure, felt the pain slowly abating, his breathing easing.

"Thanks…" he whispered tiredly.

"Go back to sleep… I know how you feel… I know…"

**FIN**

* * *

I'd have loved to let them keep this connection… although they already are connected… but who knows… Sam still knew how Dean felt… he knew… ;)

Hope you enjoyed the story… stay tuned in for "broken"

~Lee


End file.
